Quilting a Life

Believe it or not, we all make a quilt. Just one. You start out with a pile of fabric. Everyone's fabric is different, some have bright floral prints, others a demure tan stripe. As you go along, you cut the pieces, begin to see how it'll shape up to be, but you can never know for sure. You finish cutting, throw away the worthless scraps, the ideas that didn't turn out as you planned. You plunk down at the machine. Most people follow a pattern, but some just go out on a limb, don't follow anything anyone else has done, and hope for the best. And you start the 'exciting' part- the part you were waiting for the whole time while you were preparing-learning to sew, cutting each piece. You sew.

Some days, you sail along fine. Each block is nearly perfect, you nearly burst with the pride of achievement. Some days, you unpick stitch after stitch, and despair of ever doing it right. Some days, you feel you shouldn't even get out the machine at all.

Finally, you finish. You step back and see your finished quilt for the first time.

Your done. There's no going back, and the Judge is about to see it. Will He see a tangled mess of thread, bizarre fabrics in a lurid green? Will he see vibrant fabrics that, poorly executed, clash against each other and bunch up in some places? Or will He see a lovely creation, a colorful quilt made from trial, error, hard work, and sweat?

Everyone lives once. You get one quilt to make. What will yours look like. Will it win the prize, or be rejected, along with you?

Gretchen

Sacremento Roadtrip

Last Friday we went to Sacramento. Well, not really Sacramento, but in the mountains about an hour from Sacramento. We stayed with some friends who had a beautiful house right next to two lakes. It was really nice. Living in SoCal can really get to you, you forget the feeling of fall, a soft breeze and a promising smell. I took several pictures of the smaller lake. (as you can see, and this isn't even close to them all.) And there were geese- not very nice geese. They honked and hissed whenever you came close and acted like they would bite you. But in the corner of the photo there are two smaller birds with brown backs, those were like a married couple.

The bigger lake was a swimming lake, so we could wade in it. There was one part that was sandy, the rest was thick, black mud. Oh, the noises mud can make. We must of tromped through that sludge half a dozen times just to feel it squish through your toes. There were some tadpoles in the lake. Lots of tadpoles, especially in the muddy shallows. Nicholas and Lillian got feisty and through mud at each other- Nicholas filled Lillian's Crocs with mud.

'Lake' is one of my favorite words. It reminds me of fresh breezes, quiet, and relaxation. These lakes didn't disappoint. Sure, we all needed showers upon returning. But being out in nature is like getting to recharge your batteries (as long as you don't get too dirty-then it's just obnoxious). And it's fun.

Gretchen